Stirring Dull Roots With Spring Rain
by Katie Havok
Summary: Queenie waits until the door has locked behind Tina and her girlfriend, the bolt sliding home with a loud snick before reaching for Newt. "Come here, sugar," she murmurs, arranging herself on the couch so Newt can tuck his head into her lap, allowing her to run her fingers through his hair. She stops every now and then to admire the engagement ring glinting on her finger.


This story was originally published on Ao3 on May 19th, 2018 and is being included here for the sake of thoroughness.

 **Warnings: smut,** and major canon divergence.

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Queenie waits until the door has locked behind Tina and her girlfriend, the bolt sliding home with a loud _snick_ before reaching for Newt.

"Come here, sugar," she murmurs, arranging herself on the couch so Newt can tuck his head into her lap, allowing her to run her fingers through his hair. She stops every now and then to admire the engagement ring glinting on her finger, a Princess-cut pink diamond on a bed of rose-gold, and the catalyst for the evening celebration they'd just concluded.

Newt purrs before turning his head to smile up at her, the loose ends of his silk bow tie trailing over her thigh. "Are you happy, darling?" he asks, touching her ring with scarred fingers. Queenie can sense how very much the question means to him, the layers of love, desire, and uncertainty swathing the core of his determination, and she smiles while cupping his jaw.

"I'm just peachy," she murmurs, meaning every word before ducking her head to kiss him.

Newt pushes himself up to meet her halfway and deepen the kiss. His hands go first to her shoulders, then her waist when he pulls her into his lap, taking her weight with a sigh that lights up his thoughts with gentle pinks and golds before he tenders the embrace.

They part with a gentle nip, and Queenie tunes into the steady pulse of _want_ and _need_ at the forefront of his mind. She tips their foreheads together before taking his hand, renewed certainty lending strength to her grip.

"You know how I said I ain't never really been with a man before?" she asks him, smiling when he looks at her with wide eyes. "Well, I'm not so sure I want to be that way anymore. Whaddya say you and me head to bed and see where the night takes us?"

Newt swallows with a dry click, his fingers making a mess of her curls. "Well, we are engaged now so it wouldn't be _entirely_ improper, but are you sure you want to do that?" he asks, initiating eye contact. "Now, I mean? Wouldn't you rather wait until we are wed? I told you before that I don't mind waiting, I—"

Queenie cuts him off with a kiss, delighting in his quick intake of air, the way his thoughts all circle around _her_. "I'm sure," she promises and connects the color of his eyes to surprise, committing them to memory before kicking off her mules and taking his hand, nervously smoothing the front of her dress. "Now c'mon, honey. Take me to bed."

He stumbles in his haste to make his feet, wrapping around her with a breathless laugh before framing her face between his hands. "I love you," Newt breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. "I love you, I _love_ you, I love—"

"Put ya money where your mouth is, then," she challenges breathlessly, only to gasp when he presses his lips to the hollow of her throat, his restless tongue mapping her skin. " _Yes_ , like that!"

Newt hooks the collar of her dress to tug it aside before pressing a trail of kisses over her shoulder. "There's more where that came from," he murmurs into her skin, his hand molding to the curve of her hip. "So much more...but only if you are _certain_."

"I ain't never been surer of anything in my life," Queenie murmurs with a coy smile while sliding her fingers along his braces, "except maybe for marryin' you."

Newt sinks into her mouth, ending with a lavish bite of her bottom lip before taking her hand. "Then I suppose it isn't kind of me to keep you waiting, is it?" he muses, taking her in his arms before steering them toward the bedroom.

They kiss through the door and across the room, wrapped around each other beside her narrow bed until Queenie is breathless with excitement and nerves, anticipatory tingles chasing over her skin from the crown of her head to the very tips of her toes.

"My father always insisted that's how you could tell," Newt murmurs while reaching for the zipper trailing over her back, the sound of her undressing very loud in the still bedroom. "When kissing the woman you love makes your toes go numb."

Queenie lowers his braces before reaching for the buttons on his shirt. "He sounds like a wise man," she murmurs against his lips, kissing him deeply as her hands move down his chest until they reach the stiff line of his waistband and she can finger his toned stomach. "But I ain't really interested in thinking about your Pa, honey. Not right now."

Newt huffs a quiet laugh as he pushes her dress over her shoulders and she steps out of the pool of fabric, only to turn serious when he glances down at her. "Remarkable," he murmurs and brushes his knuckles over the boning on her corset before reaching for the zipper with a questioning glance. Queenie nods her assent, making a concerted effort not to bite her lip. He kisses her deeply while loosening the garment, allowing it to peel away from her skin until the rush of cool air makes her shiver.

He pulls away from her mouth to drag damp lips down the column of her neck, lingering at the hollow of her throat and earning a whine before mouthing the swell of her breast. Queenie gasps at the heady new sensation, tipping her head back to breath her delight when he laves her through the rayon of her camisole before sighing shakily when his mouth moves over her stomach and _lower_ as he sinks to his knees.

"Is this alright?" Newt asks once he's kneeling worshipfully before her, his long fingers spread over the swell of her hip. Queenie looks down at him with a beatific smile, threading her fingers through his hair off his unspoken offering before stroking the nape of his neck.

" _Better_ than alright," she whispers, and meets his eyes as they darken. "Everything you're thinking, everything you want — do it. Please. I want it _all_."

Newt purrs deep in his throat before kissing the inner curve of her thigh, winning a gasp. He kisses the other one while reaching for her garters, unclipping them with a flick of his wrist before dragging his fingertips around the tops of her stockings and murmuring a sticking charm.

"I wouldn't mind keeping these on," he explains, and Queenie can feel the heat of his blush even through the patterned silk. He offers no apology though, not even in his mind, and his hands are sure when he strokes her skin while dotting her belly and hips with kisses before gently pushing her toward the bed, instructing her to sit on the edge.

She can see the shape of his intentions clearly in his mind, and she hums indulgently when he gently pushes her thighs apart to kneel between them before stretching up to kiss her, his hands landing lightly on her knees. "Do it," she breathes, only to sigh when he tugs her corset and camisole off, laying them aside and leaving her in nothing save her stockings.

Queenie doesn't need to see his face to know how very much her nudity effects him, the way his entire thought process grinds to a halt. Still, it's immensely gratifying to feel the heat of his gaze when he reaches for her with one calloused hand. His heavy-lidded eyes meet hers in clear entreaty and she nods permission before he palms her breast, his thumb rolling over the tight bud of her nipple.

"Lovely," Newt murmurs, his other hand joining the first, kneading her breasts until he leans in to replace his fingers with his mouth, making her keen. "My _beautiful_ Queenie."

Queenie shivers when he rings her nipple with his teeth, biting down before soothing the burn with his tongue. He pulls back to lick a broad swatch between her breasts in apology, sliding a hand through the notch of her waist to cradle her hips when they begin to roll, autonomously seeking friction as humidity gathers between her legs.

Newt moves lower as Queenie leans back on stiff arms to watch him cover her with kisses, the shape of his intentions clear in her mind. He sinks between her thighs before pushing them apart, putting the most intimate part of her on display. His ardent thoughts color with passion, awe, and sheer delight, quickly enough to banish any lingering doubts, modesty evaporating in the face of his obvious approval.

"Go on, then," Queenie says after a time, her voice sounding strained to her own ears as she anchors herself to his shoulder. "Have a taste. I don't mind."

"I'm sure you _don't_ ," Newt says hoarsely before sliding his hands beneath her legs. She goes easily when he gently tugs her forward, aligning her with the edge of the bed, and he licks his lips before flicking his eyes up to her face. She nods encouragingly, biting her lip. He reaches up to gently free it from between her teeth before kissing her just _there_ , a brief but sensual touch.

Queenie moans, her hands flying to his hair to keep him in place when he chuckles before kissing her again, a little more deeply. She braces against the nape of his neck as he loses himself in the task, exploring her with every ounce of his natural-born curiosity, mapping and tasting until a slender finger circles her entrance, gathering moisture before gently breaching her. Queenie tosses her head back when he adds a second finger, stretching her deliciously, moaning when he finds a rhythm, the slick, heady friction a sensuous counterpoint to his tongue.

She can't find it in her to be self-conscious when her orgasm trembles out of her, curling her toes as gasped iterations of his name fill the air. Queenie surrenders to the moment, tingling and flushed until she comes back to herself to find that she's collapsed over the mattress, dragging him along.

Newt presses damp lips to her neck and shoulders, kicking off his trousers and underwear before covering her, her musty essence flavoring their kisses as they line themselves up with careful movements.

He finds her eyes at the critical moment, his mind a calm blue pool of certainty. She uses it as an anchor when she murmurs permission and first his hands, then his hips find the way, pressing into her body with a sigh.

Newt releases a pent breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before kissing her. "I'm sorry for the discomfort," he says, his voice a little ragged when he holds himself pointedly still. "I'll try to go slow, my love, because it shouldn't hurt, it should _never_ hurt, but—"

"I know what the other girls say," Queenie breathes, dragging her fingernails along his spine and delighting in his minute shivers, "and I think they're all Dumb Dora's because honey, the _last_ thing I'm feeling is pain." She presses her hips up, twitching against the hard spur sunk deep into her, and smirks when a groan tears past his throat. "Now enough _worrying_. Make us both feel good."

He growls before pressing his face into her hair, settling lower over her and guiding her legs around his waist. Queenie crosses her ankles over the small of his back at the urging of his thoughts, sliding her arms around him when he pulls her close, his fingers tangling in her hair. Newt presses forward with a ragged moan, filling her completely before withdrawing, finding a rhythm as they rock together, skin searing where it touches and tasting his gasps when she skims her lips along his throat.

Newt's arms pull her impossibly closer until Queenie can no longer bite back appreciative sighs and moans, too focused on the molten heat he tenders to care. He lifts his face from the sanctuary of her hair to kiss her before pressing their foreheads together, bodies and minds joined as they make love through eye-contact, the starving itch deep within fed and nourished until it is sated, the overflow of passion sizzling along her nerves as she trembles beneath him.

He moves faster, pinching his eyes shut and Queenie doesn't need to see directly into his head to sense the gathering storm of his release. She reaches out for him with her body and the feminine core of her psyche, latching onto the contours of his emotions and drowning in the swirling rose-gold-blue font of his thoughts as they crash together. Newt gasps out her name at his peak, her fingernails digging bloodless crescents into his freckled arms as their movements slow until they land in a tangled, sweaty heap, his head cradled on her shoulder as their legs twine together.

"Well," Newt says after a time, the wrecked quality of his voice inspiring a satisfied shiver. "I'm glad we waited, though I wish we had thought to put up privacy spells _before_ falling into bed together." He lifts his head, wearing the _goofiest_ smile she's ever witnessed, his fingers ineffectually smoothing down his snarled hair. "You don't suppose the neighbors will have chosen to ignore all that, do you?"

Queenie scoffs before capturing his wrist, guiding his hand back to her skin. "Not a chance," she says cheerfully. "Next time, we gotta remember our silencing spells, is all. Maybe charm the headboard so it doesn't bang quite so loudly. Stuff like that."

Newt gives her a playful, narrow-eyed look. "You noticed that?" he murmurs, cupping her face for a tender kiss. "Seems I haven't done my job properly, then. I'll have to try harder next time."

"I ain't sure _harder's_ the word for it, but I'm willin' to try again," Queenie quips, only to shriek laughter when he digs his fingertips into her ribs, tickling her ruthlessly.

"None of that," he admonishes after they've calmed down. "I haven't even asked how it was for you because I don't believe I did half-bad but _please_ , for the sake of my fragile male ego, _don't_ tease me anymore."

"Okay," Queenie agrees easily, and shifts to wrap her arms around his shoulders with a grin "But I hope you don't mind me tellin' ya that it was great, and not just because I could feel it in your mind. It was…" Queenie can't find the words, and she nibbles her bottom lip before looking away, furrowing her brow. "I ain't never been good with words so I don't know how to describe it but Newt, what we just did — it was _wonderful_."

Newt smiles bashfully. "I would have gone with 'mind-blowing', myself," he says, tucking a loose blonde curl behind her ear. "I'm very happy I was able to satisfy you, dove. Next time, perhaps I'll be able to make it last a bit, uh, longer."

Queenie gently tugs his head down until it is cradled on her breast and she can card her fingers through his hair. "Don't worry about next time," she mumbles, feeling sleepy and sated. "Let's just enjoy the now, yeah?"

"Alright," he mumbles and kisses her still-damp skin before closing his eyes. "And if I fall asleep on you, feel free to pinch me as hard as you can until I roll off or wake up. I don't want to crush you…"

She kisses his hair before Summoning the blanket and pulling it over them. "You won't crush me," she whispers, and he makes a fuzzy sound as his thoughts loosen and stretch out, mellowing into the slow patterns of rest.

Queenie holds him just a little bit tighter, smiling when he shifts the bulk of his weight off her before surrendering to sleep. She rests her left hand on the crown of his head to admire her ring once again, attention divided between the precious bauble and counting the delicate fan of his eyelashes draped over freckled cheeks.

"I love you," she whispers and knows he hears it when a flash of rose-gold colors his thoughts, just for a moment, before he sinks deeper into dreams.

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Come find me on Tumblr at katiehavok, if that's your thing.


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